


Maybe I just wanna be yours

by Gabichan_96



Series: Ryuji and Akira: The Longest Confession [3]
Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Caretaking, Child walking in on parent (not graphic), Crushes, Implied vomiting, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Relationship Advice, Sleepy Cuddles, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2019-11-28 07:15:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18205220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabichan_96/pseuds/Gabichan_96
Summary: Ohya simply smiles at him and takes another sip of her own drink. “So, tell me about this crappy week of yours.”Akira takes another sip, which goes down easier than the first. “It wasn't crappy, it was just… a lot.” He hesitates, thinking about how to word everything, feeling the suspense as Ohya leans forward until-“Oh my God, spit it out! You're killing me here!”“Okay, okay!” Akira takes a couple more gulps of his drink before blurting out, “I realized I'm in love with my best friend.”“Aww, how cute!” Ohya is smiling from ear to ear as she clinks her glass against his and takes a sip. “Who's the lucky girl?”Akira keeps his face down, swirling his drink in its glass as he replies, “Hisname is Ryuji.”





	1. Friday Night

**Author's Note:**

> “Secrets I have held in my heart  
> Are harder to hide than I thought  
> Maybe I just wanna be yours  
> I wanna be yours, I wanna be yours”  
> -Arctic Monkeys, “I Wanna Be Yours”
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~
> 
> FYI: this is the third in a series of pieces. I think they make enough sense on their own, which is why they're separate, but there's about 10k words that show how we got to this point. So if you haven't read those, might wanna check them out first.
> 
> Enjoy!

It always feels like time stops when he walks into Crossroads. Something about the hazy air and magenta lighting make it feel almost like a safe room in the Metaverse, and it is a safe room of sorts; the patrons here come with their worries weighing heavy on them and are able to leave with at least a melancholy acceptance, if not a renewed motivation to tackle what brought them here in the first place. Though Akira usually strolls in for slightly different reasons than anyone else here, the outcome is the same. He leaves feeling better than when he arrived. On this cold Friday night, however, he's just another troubled soul looking for a sympathetic ear and some non-judgemental company.

Lala Escargot looks up from the glass she’s polishing and takes the cigarette out of her mouth to greet him. “Well hello, handsome. Haven’t seen you in a while. The regulars have been askin’ for ya.”

“Sorry, I've been really busy lately,” Akira says with an apologetic smile as he settles into his usual seat. “I've missed everyone here too.”

Ohya's head lifts from where she may have been sleeping on the bar. After blinking groggily, her face lights up with recognition. “Oh, look who's here! I told you he'd be back, Lala-chan!”

Lala raises an eyebrow. “I wasn't the one who was worried he'd never come back.”

Akira chuckles. “Sorry Ohya, I know it's been a while, but I figured even you couldn't save the Phantom Thieves’ reputation after what happened to Okumura.”

Ohya scowls and takes a big sip of her drink. “That's fair. Just outta curiosity, what are the Phantom Thieves up to these days?”

Akira takes a sip from the glass of the water Lala slides toward him. “The Phantom Thieves have their eye on their biggest target yet. This man has been doing a lot of damage for many years now, abusing his position in our government to further himself at all costs.”

“Ooh, sounds dangerous.” Ohya slouches further in her seat, listening intently. “What else can you tell me?”

“Unfortunately, not much. They're still pretty early into the process, and I'm sure you understand why I can't share much about the target this time. Not that I think it would get back to him, but if he becomes even a little suspicious that he's being targeted, the Phantom Thieves’ job becomes a _lot_ more difficult.”

Ohya lets out a disappointed groan, resting her chin in her hand as she pouts. “Yeah, I guess you can never be too careful. So this target really is that much of a big deal, huh?”

“Definitely. And this change of heart _needs_ to go well,” Akira says, running a finger over the condensation on his glass. “I think the stakes are higher than even the Phantom Thieves know.”

Ohya smacks her lips and slams her empty glass back down on the bar, earning a glare from Lala. She looks Akira up and down, no doubt using her reporter's intuition to scrutinize him. “You seem kinda weird tonight. Is there something bothering you?”

“Hm?” Akira meets her narrowed eyes. She's already swaying in her seat. He could just deny it, but part of him doesn't want to. It would be so nice to talk to someone else about his newfound feelings for Ryuji. He's been worrying about how to tell him the truth so much that he's actually been losing sleep over it.

“It has been a hard week for me. I've… been dealing with a personal situation that's so new to me, I really don't know what to do.”

Akira jumps when Ohya yells, “Lala-chan! Our friend here needs something a little stronger than water, know what I mean? He's had a rough week.”

Lala gets to work preparing a drink, and in no time she slides Akira a tall yellow drink with a pineapple wedge and a bright red cherry on the rim. As she refills Ohya's glass, she nods at Akira's drink and says, “I won't be offended if you can't finish it, okay?”

Akira nods and takes a sip. It's fizzy and so sweet it makes his teeth hurt. “It's… nice. Thank you.” When Lala is out of earshot, he turns to face Ohya completely. “I'm not sure she even put anything in this.”

Ohya searches the room for wandering eyes, then dumps half of the clear liquid in her glass into Akira's drink. “That should do something for you.”

It takes all Akira's concentration not to start coughing after his next sip. Everything from his lips to his belly button feels like it's been set on fire, and if not for the sweetness and pineapple flavor he's not sure he could've gotten it down at all. He blinks rapidly and sputters, “Yeah, that did it. Wow.”

Ohya simply smiles at him and takes another sip of her own drink. “So, tell me about this crappy week of yours.”

Akira takes another sip, which goes down easier than the first. “It wasn't crappy, it was just… a lot.” He hesitates, thinking about how to word everything, feeling the suspense as Ohya leans forward until-

“Oh my God, spit it out! You're killing me here!”

“Okay, okay!” Akira takes a couple more gulps of his drink before blurting out, “I realized I'm in love with my best friend.”

“Aww, how cute!” Ohya is smiling from ear to ear as she clinks her glass against his and takes a sip. “Who's the lucky girl?”

Akira keeps his face down, swirling his drink in its glass as he replies, “ _His_ name is Ryuji.”

“Oh, whoops. Sorry.” Ohya looks embarrassed, but she shakes her head and has her chipper demeanor back in a moment. “Anyway, are you gonna tell him?”

“That's just it. He's my _best friend_. No matter what happens after I tell him, things will never be the same again. And I'm only here for a few more months, then I have to move back home. I have to tell him, I already decided I would, I just… don't want things to change. I wish we could keep being the way we've always been, but-” he forces himself to take another couple sips of his drink before continuing, “I can already tell something's changed in my brain that I won't be able to turn back to the way it was before.

“It makes me feel guilty to admit this but, out of all our friends, I've always valued his input above anyone else's. When he talks, everything else becomes… insignificant. The way he moves, it- it startles me, how captivating he is, even doing the most mundane things. I've always known that he's an amazingly strong person. You wouldn't believe the shit he's been through, Ohya.” Akira pauses when his throat begins to tighten and his eyes warm with unshed tears. He chugs the rest of his drink, wincing at the burn that follows. “It's really a miracle that he ever smiles at all. But he's so full of life. More than I ever was before I moved to Tokyo. He's so passionate about standing up for people and encouraging them to pursue a better life for themselves because they deserve better.”

Akira falls silent as memories of Ryuji push his other thoughts aside. Ryuji with his arm outstretched flexing a yellow-gloved hand, wearing his Phantoms Thieves disguise for the first time. Ryuji staggering after the track guy splits his lip, straightening back up cursing and laughing. Ryuji sitting across from him in a ramen shop, looking into his eyes in a way no one else ever has before. Akira places his elbows on the bar and holds his head. He's feeling dizzy, and he hears Ohya talking to him but everything kind of sounds like he's underwater. He turns to watch her face as she talks. “What was that?”

“I said, it sounds like you really do love him. And if you're best friends, he probably already knows. He must be a little suspicious at least, don'tcha think?”

“Probably. I mean, I did get dangerously close to kissing him a couple days ago, so there's that.”

“Really?! Do you think he noticed?”

Akira laughs humorlessly. “Yeah. He definitely noticed.”

Ohya shifts in her chair, looking a bit more relaxed. “So then you telling him you like him isn't gonna be completely out of nowhere. You shouldn't stress yourself out about making it a big production.”

She makes a good point, Akira thinks. Ryuji doesn't seem like the type to enjoy grand gestures. He'd probably just be self conscious and stressed out if Akira tried to confess his feelings with anything too elaborate. But he has to be direct and completely clear. In hindsight, letting the conversation about ”the girl he likes” play out the way it did was a pretty bad idea, especially since it's added an extra step to his eventual confession. Plus it probably made what could've been a tender moment between them in the kitchen the other day just plain confusing and weird for Ryuji.

“You're saying I can just- just say it to him? Just like, ‘hey, I have to tell you something’ and then say it?”

“Yeah,” Ohya laughs as she holds out her glass for Lala to refill. “You're acting like you've never done this before,” she jokes. Akira shrinks in his chair, staring at the ground so intently he doesn't notice when Lala exchanges his empty glass for a full one. It takes a moment for Ohya's words to finally reach her brain. “Woah, hey, you've never told someone you like them before? How old are you again?”

Akira lifts his face, still avoiding her eyes. “I told you, this is all completely new to me. Back home, the girls never paid any attention to me. And to be honest, I don't even know if I like _guys_ , I just… like Ryuji.” Akira shakes his head with a worried look and grips his drink. “I only realized it earlier this week, and we ended up having a conversation that made me feel better at the time but made things more difficult in the long run. Point is, I really don't know what I'm doing, and if I mess this up… if I lose him… I just can't let that happen. If he never wants to talk to me again, fine, but it would be so unfair to all our other friends if it causes him to distance from them too.”

“I promise you, you're really overthinking it,” Ohya says earnestly as she pours half her drink into his again.

“But how will I know when it's the right time? How will I know what to say?”

“I dunno, it's hard to tell you what the right time looks like, but you'll know. You'll feel it.” Ohya looks up at nothing in particular, smiling to herself. “Just- there'll be a moment when you're with him, thinking about how much he means to you, and when you're really feeling it, you'll know what to say..”

Akira stirs his drink and watches her as she blushes, probably from a bittersweet memory considering he knows she doesn't have anyone special right now. It takes some effort, but he manages to raise the glass off the bar without spilling it.

“To crushes,” he says with a warm smile, which Ohya returns as they knock their glasses together.

* * *

Ryuji's room looks like a tornado hit it as he stands in front of the mirror rolling up his sleeves. He can't help but smile as he appraises his reflection in the mirror. Who knew his ZOMG t-shirt could look so classy with a black button-up, some dark wash skinny jeans and (mostly) clean Chucks? When Yusuke first told him about it, he had no idea what to wear to this art gallery opening, but he thinks he cleaned up pretty nice.

 _If only Akira could see this_ , he thinks, immediately looking away from the mirror so he wouldn't have to see the blush he can already feel warming his face. He knows not _everything_ needs to be validated by Akira's approval, but it just feels so good. How could it be wrong for him to want that all the time?

As he tosses clothes off his bed looking for his phone, he indulges himself by picturing how it would play out if they ran into Akira at the art gallery. Letting his thoughts drift off and imagining meeting Akira in the few places he goes without him is something he’s been doing a lot this week. (Totally normal, right?) Akira would definitely wear black and red. Maybe a tailcoat, that would be nice. Ryuji knows his smile so well, he can picture it clear as day. Akira would stride over, coat flowing behind him, and throw an arm around his shoulders in their usual half-hug greeting. Knowing Akira, he would probably take a moment to fix Ryuji’s collar afterwards while telling him that he looks great, that he did a good job.

Those little affirmations, even if they aren't in the form of words, give him strength on the days he's feeling particularly bogged down by his past. The rest of the team doesn't seem to notice when the pain in his leg forces him to lag behind, but Akira always slows up for him, wordlessly asking if he's alright with a knowing look or a hand gently laid on his back. Shido's palace has required a lot of running around, and it has been taking a toll on him. His posture has been noticeably worse for the last week or so, with him being forced to keep his weight mostly off his bad leg. It's not like there's much anyone can do about it, he just has to tough through it, but Akira's sympathy helps more than he wants to admit.

The loud thud when a handful of clothes hits the floor finally produces his phone and after slipping it into his pocket and grabbing a jacket, he locks up the apartment and heads across the city to the address Yusuke gave him. As he gets closer, a lot of the buildings he passes are wooden and traditional-looking, making him worry that he's in the wrong place. He's almost ready to call Yusuke and make sure he has the right address when he spots a tall boy with indigo hair standing outside a large white building. He walks up as quickly as he can manage, motivated by the prospect of getting inside and away from the cold air.

“Yusuke?”

The boy doesn't move a muscle, still staring up at the building. Once Ryuji is standing next to him, it clearly is Yusuke, and in his typical fashion he is absorbed in his thoughts and completely oblivious to his name being called. Ryuji slowly reaches out and gently bumps Yusuke's arm with a fist.

Yusuke turns to face him, his expression changing from surprise to a calm smile. “My apologies,” he says with the usual brief bow he greets his friends with. “I was taking a moment to admire the architecture. I am becoming so accustomed to the geometric form of high-rises that the ornateness of this roof is a welcome change.”

Ryuji looks up at the roof and squints, trying his best to see what Yusuke sees. He seizes the opportunity to practice his artistic commentary. “Must've taken a damn long time to build, huh?”

Yusuke doesn't quite laugh, he exhales through his nose in amusement. “Indeed. Come, there is much more to see inside.”

As soon as they walk in, Ryuji feels underdressed. Yusuke's white shirt with the black embroidered fleur-de-lis and simple black pants fit in perfectly among the suits and designer dresses, but Ryuji can't help but feel like he could be asked any moment if he got lost going to a rock concert and ended up here instead.

“Dammit, you didn't tell me I had to look _that_ nice! People are wearing frickin’ suits!”

Yusuke scans the room as he responds. “I wouldn't worry about that. A general rule at these events; the more expensive a person's outfit is, the less likely they are here truly to appreciate the art. I chose to wear here what I wear almost every day, nothing special.”

Ryuji groans and shoves his hands in his pockets, but quickly takes them out again and makes the effort to stand up straighter, ignoring the pain in his leg. He follows Yusuke as he starts to meander around the room. It's not terribly crowded, but Ryuji is glad for Yusuke's height and easy-to-spot hair color the couple of times they do get separated. Yusuke stops in front of a round mirror-like piece almost twice his height. As Ryuji stares at the piece, impressed first by the size of it, the concave surface reflects dozens of copies of his own awestruck expression back at him.

“This is one of my favorite pieces here,” Yusuke says, meeting Ryuji's eyes in the reflection. “It appears that you appreciate it too.”

It wasn't a question, but Ryuji replies, “Yeah… it's kinda mind blowing.” He slowly takes a step to the side, watching as all the reflections do the same and the entire room seems to rotate. “Woah.”

“I must admit, I envy you. Because you are relatively unfamiliar with viewing art this way, you are able to approach it with a kind of… wonder that I only vaguely remember feeling as a child. That is part of the reason I was so pleased when you asked to spend time together this evening. You did ask me because all your first choices were otherwise occupied, correct?”

 _Ah, shit_. “Y-yeah, I'm not gonna lie, but I'm really happy you're lettin’ me tag along. So thanks.”

“Oh, you're very welcome, and thank you as well. Perhaps I shouldn't have been so blunt.”

“Nah, I think more people should say what's really on their mind. The truth is, Akira's meeting up with some friends he hasn't seen in a while, and Ann is at a swimwear photoshoot, so she thought I should sit that one out. You were only my third choice. Definitely not scrapin’ the bottom of the barrel. That would be studying with Makoto.” Ryuji gives a visible shiver of distaste, pleased with himself when it makes Yusuke smile.

“Truthfully, my first choice is indisposed as well. Since we started Shido's palace, Futaba's narcolepsy has been back full force.” Catching Ryuji's confused look, he clarifies, “She has been falling asleep without warning quite frequently.”

“Got it, sorry. That must suck. Wait, so- I gotta ask, you and Futaba are dating, right?”

“Yes, I would say that is accurate.”

“It's.. accurate?”

Yusuke brushes his hair out of his eyes before continuing. (Ryuji notices that it's similar to the way Akira's constantly messing with his bangs, but it looks much more refined, almost cold, when Yusuke does it.) “Well, I would not say we are actively going on dates, for obvious reasons. However, I know that you mean to confirm that Futaba and I have discussed our feelings for each other and agreed not to pursue others romantically. In that sense, yes, we are dating.” Yusuke enunciates the word “dating” like it's in a foreign language.

“You… you're talkin’ about it like you don't really get what it means, dude.”

Yusuke sighs, letting his head hang slightly down. “I know what it means to me, but I don't think the word conveys the unique intricacies of our situation to others. After we completed Futaba's change of heart, after she and I began interacting more, I quickly came to the realization that I care about her in a different way than I've cared about anyone before. The first time I saw her, I was instantly captivated by her beauty. She is completely authentic, for which I greatly respect her. As for the way I _feel_ about her… to quote Shakespeare's _Romeo and Juliet_ , ‘Love is a smoke rais’d with the fume of sighs; Being purg’d, a fire sparkling in a lover’s eyes; Being vex’d, a sea nourish’d with lovers’ tears: What is it else? a madness most discreet, A choking gall and a preserving sweet’.” Yusuke blushes and smiles at the ground. “Forgive me, I find it very difficult to put into words. I lack the ability to explain it properly, even to her. Perhaps, _especially_ to her.”

“Hey, man, I get it. It's really hard to talk about.” Ryuji rubs the back of his neck and looks around nervously. He must've said more words to Yusuke today than he has in all the months he's known him, and it's only the first time they've hung out alone together, but he gets the impression that Yusuke is as trustworthy as they come. He squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath. “Alright, I'm gonna tell you somethin’ right now, and I am trusting you not to tell anyone. _Anyone_ at all, especially not Futaba. Promise?” He looks intently at Yusuke, hoping almost desperately that he agrees to secrecy.

Yusuke places his hand over his heart. “I swear it.”

“Okay.” After one more deep breath, Ryuji leans in and mumbles, “I… like Akira.”

Yusuke blinks. “Pardon?”

Ryuji groans and runs his hand down his face. “I said I like Akira. And before you say anything, yes, I mean the way you like Futaba.”

Yusuke simply looks back at the art piece in front of them and nods. “Just out of curiosity, may I ask how long you've felt that way?”

“Well I only kinda realized it a couple days ago when he- uh,” Ryuji clears his throat, hoping Yusuke will ignore the slip, “we were hanging out. But I think I've always felt the same way about him, since we met. It's not like anything changed, it's just that now… I dunno. Now I'm wondering if he might, maybe, feel somethin’ too.”

“I believe it's possible. The way you two interact is… special.”

“Right? I mean, I think so too. And it's so weird because just earlier this week he was all out of it when we were trying to play some video games and when I called him out, he told me all about this girl he's been crushing on. But since then he's been acting really weird around me and now I'm just freakin’ confused.”

“Do you think you should talk to him about it? Perhaps if you just ask him, you'll get the answers you're looking for.”

“No, no no no,” Ryuji flails his arms and shakes his head. “I can't just be like, 'hey, so I know you're crushin’ on that girl you told me about, but do you like me too?’ Oh God, no. I would die of embarrassment before I even get the words out.”

Yusuke chuckles. “I also don't think I would be able to go through with that conversation in your place. If asking him is off the table, what other course of action could you take?”

“That's just it, I don't think there _is_ anything else I can do. I don't wanna rock the boat or say something that'll make it weird forever, y'know? Maybe I should just wait for it to blow over?”

Yusuke begins to respond, but is interrupted by Ryuji's ringtone, which earns them some disapproving glares from nearby patrons.

“Shit, sorry, I forgot to put it on silent.” Ryuji pulls out his phone, prepared to send the call to voicemail, but he does a double take with his finger hovering above the screen. “Shit! Dude, Akira's calling me right now!” Without hesitating, Ryuji presses the talk button and holds the phone to his ear, covering his other ear to hear better. “Hey, Akira?”

_“Ryuji, hey. Look, this is probably gonna be totally out of left field but I have to tell you something.”_

Ryuji immediately notices that Akira's voice seems off. His words are slurred and he's breathing into the phone like he's forgotten how to hold it right.

“Uh, are you okay, man? You sound like you're havin' a rough time.”

_“Huh? Oh, no, I'm good. I'm totally good, I just *hic* got back from hanging out with Ohya.”_

Ohya? Is that the girl?

“Hang on. Akira, are you- were you drinking?”

_“Yeah, I had a couple drinks. I think they just hit me extra hard cause I didn't eat much today.”_

“What the hell, man? Are you okay? Do you need me to come over?”

_“Maybe? Not if you're busy though. I just have to tell you- I know I probably shouldn't tell you this over the phone, but I just can't… I should've told you the truth from the start. There's… there was never…”_

Silence.

“Akira? Hello?”

Ryuji hears a loud crash on the other end, then the distant sound of retching.

“Ah shit, okay, I'm coming over, okay? I'll be there as soon as I can.”

Ryuji shoves the phone back into his pocket, leaving the ringer on in case Akira calls again. He looks around for Yusuke, who thankfully hasn't wandered too far away. Ryuji taps his foot impatiently as Yusuke finishes his conversation with a couple other kids, probably his classmates. As soon as they start walking away, Ryuji grabs Yusuke's arm.

“Dude, I gotta leave, I'm sorry. Akira's sick.”

“Oh, I understand. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Nah, he'll be fine in a couple hours, I just don't feel right leavin’ him alone. But hey, you and me should come back here sometime, 'kay? I woulda liked to see more of the place.”

Yusuke smiles, genuinely happy to have found something he and Ryuji can enjoy together. “I look forward to it,” he says with a bow. “Please pass on my best wishes for Akira's quick recovery.”

“Yeah, will do,” Ryuji says as he zips his leather jacket back up. He gives Yusuke a final nod and heads for the door.

He hurries to the train station, wincing when his leg cramps up but not wasting any time on it. It's not like Akira will be any less sick once he gets there, but he can't stand the thought of Akira being alone like that. Ryuji thinks back to the first and last time he had too much to drink, silently pleading that none of the dark thoughts that came to him that night are coming to Akira. As long as they've known each other, Akira has never mentioned an interest in drinking. Why now? Did he really just drink himself sick to impress some girl? Ryuji mentally files that away to bring up once Akira is feeling better, along with whatever he was trying to tell him right before- ugh.

 _Hang on, Akira,_  he thinks as he weaves through the crowd and lunges through the train doors just as they start to close. _I'll be there soon._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! Chapter 2 coming soon!
> 
> I know there weren't any lovey-dovey moments in this one, hopefully the next chapter makes up for that. Also, Yusuke is the character I identify with most, so I hope I did him justice.
> 
> If anyone is curious, the art gallery is supposed to be SCAI The Bathhouse and the art they talk in front of is an untitled piece by Anish Kapoor
> 
> As always, comments and constructive criticisms are welcome!


	2. Late Friday Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryuji tilts his head on the pillow, chasing the faint scent of coffee until his nose and lips are buried in Akira's raven locks, grateful no one can see his eyes fill with tears.
> 
> _Maybe I should've gone home. It's not right for me to be here, holding you like this… you're drunk, and I should've known better. Damn. Ain't it just my luck that you get a girlfriend the same week I realize I- I…_
> 
> “I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Meet me in a raindrop, falling on a rooftop  
> Dance with me until we find the words that we should act on
> 
> I can't dream like this forever  
> When we fail to feel what is never spoken  
> From my lungs escape the whitest of smoke  
> Because I've finally found the one.  
> You be the ruse and I'll be the caper  
> You pirouette and I'll never let you stop"
> 
> -Coyote Theory, "The Ruse & The Caper"
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~
> 
> Please feel free to check out the previous works in this series, there are about 15k words that show how we got to this point.
> 
> Enjoy!

Ryuji checks the time on his phone and slips it back into his pocket, resisting the urge to text Akira again. It's not terribly late so he doesn't have to worry about the nearby stores being closed. That's good. After he checks on Akira, he'll step out to pick up a couple things. Thanks to his time as an athlete, he knows enough about the body and nutrition to be confident about helping Akira through the next few hours. That part is simple. So, why is he so worried right now? This is _one time_. There's absolutely no reason to worry about how much Akira might like alcohol. Everyone gets really drunk at least once when they're young, how else do you learn not to overdo it, right? Plus, he was trying to impress a girl. Ryuji definitely knows how fast common sense can go out the window in that situation.

The train shifts, causing Ryuji to curse when pain shoots through his leg from the sudden weight. He bends down and squeezes the back of his knee, grateful for the mildest relief.

_ Fuck it, maybe I should just down some vodka too to deal with this damn leg, huh?  _

Provoked by the thought, a long-buried memory starts playing in Ryuji's mind. He's maybe nine or ten. He'd spent all that summer Saturday at the arcade, and he's tired but content as he unlocks the door to his apartment and steps inside. He is greeted by the TV, a cheerful voice advertising some cleaning product. The coffee table is littered with bottles of alcohol, same as always, but his father is absent from his usual spot on the couch. 

Ryuji shuffles to his room, hesitating when he notices a sound from deeper inside the apartment. It's a woman's voice, maybe his mother? She sounds… sad? Or like she's in pain? He was surprised that she was home since it wasn't that late yet, and the restaurant scheduled her to close pretty much every Saturday night. He passes his own bedroom door and makes his way to the back of the apartment slowly, too frightened to make any sound himself. 

As he nears his parents’ bedroom, he notices another voice, deeper. His father? The voices aren't saying any words. Only grunts and whimpers emerge from the doorway. Ryuji presses himself against the hallway wall, trying his best to stay out of sight, and leans forward just enough to see into the bedroom. He peeks around the doorframe just far enough to see the bed, and as soon as he does, everything in him wishes he hadn't come home early. 

Two bodies are writhing around on the bed, naked limbs entangled. Are they wrestling? Naked? Weird. Ryuji is a fraction of a second from backing away and leaving them be when the bodies shift, his father pressing the woman's shoulders into the bed as her short red hair fans out on the sheets. That is  _ not _ Ryuji's mother. Immediately, he knows this whole situation is wrong. It's wrong for him to be seeing them, but it's even more wrong for them to be doing whatever they're doing over there. He thinks of his mother, busy at work with an honest smile on her face as she cares for her customers like family, and he feels his face twisted with anger.

Then the woman turns her head and her eyes widen with alarm when she sees him standing there. She shouts his father's name and scrambles to cover herself with the sheets. His father's head snaps around, eyes locked onto Ryuji with hate carved into every line of his face. 

“You little-” He clambers off the bed and rushes at Ryuji like an oncoming train. Ryuji's legs buckle and he falls backwards onto the hallway floor, and before he can say anything his father's hand is around his neck like a vice, lifting him completely off the floor-

_ “Now arriving at Yongen-Jaya.” _

The robotic-sounding voice pulls Ryuji back to the present just in time. He straightens up from where he was still hunched over clutching his leg and tries to slow his breathing down. He stumbles through the train station and grits his teeth against the pain as he makes his way to Leblanc. Remembering his previous thought about drinking his own pain away, he shudders and swallows hard, disgusted by the thought of the taste. He knows it's not entirely to blame for the way things went with his parents, but alcohol has definitely only brought misery into his life. He really doesn't understand why people would choose to mess with that shit just casually, like on a date. 

Ryuji's face goes red at the word  _ date_. He's sixteen and never been on one, not really. Hanging out with Ann in middle school didn't count. Ryuji always knew he was a one-on-one kind of guy, preferring to be around one other person at a time. He always felt like when he was in a group, the conversations would end up excluding him somehow. With the track team, before Kamoshida, the other guys would always be complaining about practice, or their time, and he didn't really have anything to say about that. Now, with the Phantom Thieves, he could definitely admit to feeling more included, or at least like he had a unique role in the team's dynamic. Still, he felt like he could only really be himself when he was alone with someone else, and until literally today, that person has exclusively been Akira. Hanging out with Yusuke was nice, and Ryuji is excited to spend more time with him, but it really underscored that his friendship- relationship?- with Akira is completely unique and irreplaceable. 

Ryuji frowns.  _ Obviously, Akira still wanted to go out drinking with some girl, so it's not like he feels the same way about me.  _

Since he woke up in Akira's room the morning after that weird moment they had in the kitchen, Ryuji hasn't been able to figure out what the hell Akira had been trying to to do. It's confusing enough that Akira might've wanted to _kiss him_ , but beyond that... why didn't he? Assuming that _is_ what he had been thinking about doing, what was it that made him change his mind? Ryuji can think of a million reasons, the most prevalent one being simply that Akira, like everyone else in Tokyo, wouldn't lower himself to the point of kissing Sakamoto Ryuji. Akira has a _girl_ , first of all, that'll probably become his girlfriend soon, if she isn't already. What on Earth would make him waste his time on Ryuji, especially now? Ryuji exhales a long and weary sigh, trying to pull himself together. Tonight, there are more important things to worry about.

Finally, he's outside Leblanc's door, steeling himself for what he might find inside. He's never seen Akira sick before, so he has no idea how Akira's temperament changes. Would Akira be irritable, like he is when he's sick? And, since he's been drinking… Ryuji's hands clench into fists so tight his nails dig into his palms. Suddenly, it's like he's a little kid again, standing outside the door of his own apartment. He could be greeted with anything from hugs to… much less favorable contact. But this is Akira, he thinks. The same Akira who only bears an expression anything close to anger when they're discussing palaces or targets in Mementos. Akira who, after the shadows force him to attack his own teammates, apologizes over and over again even though it wasn't his fault at all. And right now, Akira deserves so much better than being alone on the bathroom floor. Ryuji finally summons the courage to try the door, which is already unlocked. He steps into the dark cafe and closes the door quietly behind him.

“Akira?” 

No answer. Ryuji sheds his coat and throws it over one of the barstools as he walks cautiously to the bathroom by the stairs. He knocks gently on the door, trying his hardest to ground himself in the moment.

“Akira? H-how's it going?”

Akira's weak voice is muffled by the closed door.

“I'm coming in, okay?” He opens the door slowly, heart still racing with echoes of fear from years ago. Akira is sprawled out on the floor, resting his head against his arm where it's draped over the porcelain bowl. Ryuji braces himself against the doorframe and slides down to sit beside him. “Hey, man.”

Akira lifts his head, the pained expression on his face melting into relief as soon as their eyes meet. His mouth instantly blooms into a grin so wide it forces his eyes shut, and as he laughs weakly, he reaches out and grips Ryuji's shoulder so hard it almost hurts. 

“I am so glad to see you right now.” 

Something about the way Akira looks into his eyes makes Ryuji feel strange. Akira's eyes are watery, but his alcohol-reddened face is wearing the most heartwarming smile Ryuji has ever seen. God, how can he be so beautiful while hugging a toilet bowl? Ryuji doesn't have deja vu often, but his mother says it's the universe’s way of letting you know you're exactly where you're supposed to be. And right now, he's completely sure he is.

“Yeah, I'm glad to see you too.” Ryuji lays his hand over Akira's on his shoulder and squeezes gently. “Y'had me worried, dude.”

Akira suddenly jolts and grips the sides of the bowl with both hands, and Ryuji can't help but shield his eyes. Thankfully, nothing happens. Akira crosses his arms over the bowl and lays his head on his arm.

“Sorry. I… I think I should stay here for a while longer.”

“That's okay, man. Actually, I have to run to the store anyway. You gonna be okay here till I get back?”

Akira groans, but gives a thumbs up, so Ryuji clambers to his feet (grateful that Akira is too distracted to notice how much difficulty he has doing so) and smiles to himself as he pulls the bathroom door shut behind him.

* * *

When Ryuji reaches the top of the attic stairs, he finds Akira curled up on the bed facing the wall. Ryuji tries to set the grocery bags down quietly, but Akira rolls over and blinks bleary-eyed at him anyway.

“Sorry, were you sleeping?”

“Almost, I think,” Akira responds quietly. He stretches and sits up, placing the pillow he was hugging against the wall as a makeshift headboard.

While Akira is busy rubbing his eyes, Ryuji hobbles over and sits next to him on the bed, holding out a bright red sports drink.

“Drink up.” Ryuji gives a nod of encouragement to counter Akira's grimace at the beverage. “You need to replace your electrolytes, and this is the only flavor they had.”

Akira takes the drink and uncaps it slowly, frowning like a kid being forced to eat vegetables. “That isn't really the problem, I just hate the taste of sports drinks.” Nevertheless, he puts it to his lips and takes a few good sips, shuddering as he caps it and hands it back to Ryuji, who sets it on the nearby shelf within reach of the bed.

“You'll drink the rest of it, right?” 

Akira nods sleepily, smiling at Ryuji so warmly that the blond looks away and runs a hand through his spiky hair.

“Alright. Well, if you're doin’ okay now, guess I'll head home so you can get some rest.”

Ryuji stands up to leave when-

“Wait!” 

He turns and looks into Akira's eyes, catching the momentary panic before it's replaced by a calmer expression. His eyes are then drawn to his hand, and his heart skips a beat. Akira is _holding his hand_. He must've grabbed it to stop him from leaving, but instead of letting go now that he's got Ryuji's attention, Akira inches closer and tightens his grip. Ryuji is keenly aware of the warmth of Akira's palm against his, of each fingertip seeming to vibrate against his skin.

“Y-yeah?”

“...Can you stay?”

Akira's eyes are pleading, and Ryuji knows he's pretty dense but even he can feel the weight of something unspoken in Akira's gaze. A flood of anxiety over all the things he still needs to talk to Akira about causes him to consider finding an excuse to just go home, because he knows his mind is going to keep conjuring up all sorts of stuff to freak out about until they straighten everything out. But this is _Akira_ , and what kind of friend would he be if he chickened out of taking care of him because he can't keep his own feelings under control for one night? No. Akira deserves better than that.

“Sure, 'course I can,” Ryuji says with a smile, closing his fingers around Akira's and swinging his trapped arm. “But you gotta gimme my hand back so I can get to the couch.”

Without a pause, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, Akira says, “Just sleep here with me.”

That one catches Ryuji completely off guard. Thoughts race through his mind about Akira's maybe-girlfriend, and what a weird conversation it would be if Morgana, or even worse, Sojiro, sees them in bed together with the couch empty. All he can do is flap his jaw open and closed, before what Akira says next completely shuts his brain down.

“Please, Ryu?” 

_ Ryu?? _

Akira scoots back towards the wall, making space for him on the bed, and tugs his arm lightly. “It's cold in here, and… I'll sleep better if you're next to me, so… please?”

Ryuji laughs nervously and rubs the back of his neck, looking around the room as if a hidden camera crew would jump out any second and let him know this was all an elaborate prank. But no camera crews appear, no snickering can be heard from the corners of the room. This is seriously happening. As the seconds tick by, Akira's expectant gaze burning him, Ryuji feels himself drawing closer and closer to the edge of the precipice until-

_ Fuck it. _

Before he can say anything to embarrass himself, he sits on the bed and swings his legs up (doing his absolute best not to show how much pain his bad leg is in), reaching behind him to pull the pillow flat before flopping straight backwards onto it, all without removing his hand from Akira's.

Akira giggles (freaking _giggles_ ) and lays his head on Ryuji's chest. He reaches his arm across Ryuji's waist, repositioning their clasped hands, and snuggles closer. 

“You know,” Akira says just above a whisper, “you can relax a little. You don't have to pretend to be an ironing board.”

Ryuji desperately hopes Akira can't hear his heart threatening to burst out of his chest. He can feel the soft rumble of Akira's voice as he talks, and the smell of alcohol on his breath is almost completely masked by the scent of toothpaste. Ryuji chuckles and squirms around, trying to find a more organic position. (In his own bed, he thrashes around so much that waking up to the floor colliding with his face isn't that rare of an occurrence.) “That better?”

Akira lets out an uncertain little grumble before sliding his leg over Ryuji's. “Now it is,” he says with a smile Ryuji hears in his voice. 

They are completely intertwined, pressed together so thoroughly that Ryuji can't tell where he ends and Akira begins. The weight of Akira's head on his chest has made Ryuji forget how to breathe, settling for shallow little huffs as he squeezes his eyes shut and wills the heat simmering in his jeans to calm down. They were supposed to talk- to iron out what the hell has been going on between them this past week. They were absolutely  _ not _ supposed to end up in bed together,  _ especially  _ not without talking first. What does this mean for them? How the hell did they get here anyway? Something in Ryuji knows that this is not typical for best friends to do, but it feels so good, so damn  _ right _ that he's not going to question it. At least not tonight. 

Ryuji lays there basking in the beautiful warmth from Akira's figure wrapped around his, taking in every feeling, every sound. Eventually, when Akira's breathing falls into a steady rhythm and he's completely still aside from the small twitches of his fingers, Ryuji feels like he can relax knowing Akira's asleep. It finally sinks in that he's here in Akira’s room, under Akira's sheets, with Akira’s head on his chest. Kurusu Akira, leader of the Phantom Thieves, who commands fearsome godlike beings to fight for his cause, and has directly cheated death at least once. He glances at his friend's fluffy black hair and flexes his fingers, between which Akira's fingers remain laced even as he sleeps. Ryuji tilts his head on the pillow, chasing the faint scent of coffee until his nose and lips are buried in Akira's raven locks, grateful no one can see his eyes fill with tears.

_ Maybe I should've gone home. It's not right for me to be here, holding you like this… you're drunk, and I should've known better. Damn. Ain't it just my luck that you get a girlfriend the same week I realize I- I…  _

“I love you.” Ryuji exhales the words into Akira's hair as his tears spill over. Struggling to keep his breathing steady enough to avoid waking the boy sleeping on his chest, all Ryuji can do is squeeze his eyes shut and whisper the words rattling around in his head. “I love you, Akira. I love you so goddamn much.” To help reign his emotions back in, Ryuji concentrates on memorizing every detail of the moment he can, knowing that, no matter what, he'll want to hold onto this moment for the rest of his life.

* * *

Ryuji must have fallen asleep without realizing it, because when his eyes flutter open it's as dark and still and quiet as it only gets in the hours when it's simultaneously too late and too early for the average person to be awake. He feels like he's never been as comfortably warm as he is right now, with Akira still snuggled against him, partially draped over him. In his arms, Akira is moving. Ryuji assumes he's just shifting in his sleep, until Akira quietly sits up beside him.

“Hey, you okay?” he asks, but Akira only acknowledges him by silently turning to face him. It's weirdly dark, so dark that Ryuji can barely see Akira's silhouette against the murky blackness of the room. Akira starts moving again, so slowly and elegantly that Ryuji doesn't dare stop him as he pulls the covers off of them and climbs on top of Ryuji, straddling him and caressing his startled face with his slender fingers. 

Before Ryuji can ask any questions, Akira bends down and hovers his face above Ryuji's, so close he can feel the warmth of his breath as it leaves his parted lips. Ryuji tilts his chin upwards, their lips barely grazing each other as Akira pulls back and chuckles, sending a wave of heat straight down Ryuji's pants. Akira's mischievous laughter echoes in the air as Ryuji runs a hand up Akira's arm, over his shoulder and behind his neck. He pulls Akira against him, pressing their lips together for a few seconds until he feels Akira pulling away. To his surprise, Akira traces his jaw with his fingers, running his thumb over Ryuji's bottom lip so slowly it draws a soft moan from the blond. Akira leans in again, catching Ryuji's lip between his before deepening the kiss, sliding his tongue against Ryuji's. Desperate for something to hold onto, Ryuji grips Akira's thigh with his other hand, pressing his fingertips into the soft flesh. In reply, Akira grips Ryuji's shoulders and rolls his hips while trailing kisses to Ryuji's ear. 

Ryuji gasps when Akira's tongue begins to trace the shell of his ear. He grips Akira's hips with both hands and grinds up against him, shamelessly moaning Akira's name. He's shaking with pleasure, the only thought in his mind being that he wishes it wasn't so dark, so he could look into Akira's fathomless gray eyes. Akira whispers his name, but despite feeling Akira's breath tickle his ear, his voice sounds fuzzy and far away. It also sounds off, like it's not entirely his. 

“Akira?”

Ryuji hears his name again, but it's definitely not Akira this time. Suddenly, all the weight of Akira's touch dissolves away leaving only some light pressure on the center of his chest.

“Ryuji! Will you wake up already?!”

Ryuji blinks and is immediately startled by the bright sunshine streaming through the window, but even more startling, Morgana is sitting on his chest wearing a very annoyed expression. Ryuji curses reflexively and bolts upright, sending the cat scurrying to the foot of the bed.

“Damn cat! You scared the hell outta me!”

“I am  _ not _ a cat! And that wasn't my intention, but I couldn't listen to you moaning Akira's name in your sleep for another second,” Morgana says, retching dramatically for effect.

All the color drains from Ryuji's face. “I- I was not! That's a freakin’ lie!”

“You absolutely were. Akira told me to let you sleep, but I figure it's late enough.”

“Akira- where is he, anyway?”

“He's downstairs cooking your breakfast. And just so you know, the café is open, so don't go charging down there and making a scene, got it?”

Ryuji squints disdainfully and growls at the cat before throwing the blankets off of himself harder than necessary, burying Morgana under the fabric. He plants his feet on the floor and leaps out of bed like he usually does, but as soon as his weight shifts to his bad leg, he yelps and crashes to the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!  
> I didn't want this update to take as long as it did, but I think passing my state board test was a pretty good excuse, and for a couple weeks I have all the time in the world to write. Yay!  
> Obviously, a confession only counts if both people are awake to hear it, and we have to address poor Ryuji's leg. Another chapter will be up soon!  
> As always, comments and constructive criticisms are very welcome!


	3. Saturday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “... I really wish you'd just take the compliment sometimes."
> 
> Ryuji shifts uncomfortably, looking away. “It's just… I'm sorry.”
> 
> “No, I don't want you to be sorry. It makes me so sad that you're the only person who can't see how amazing you are.” 
> 
> Ryuji's face goes red. Aside from a little laugh, he's silent for a long while. Finally, he settles on, “Thanks, man. I'm nothin’ compared to you though.”
> 
> Akira tilts his head down so he can look Ryuji in the eye over the sunglasses, despite how much the light immediately makes his head hurt again. “I can't even begin to tell you how much that isn't true.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “A jaw dropper  
> Looks good when he walks, he is the subject of their talk  
> He would be hard to chase  
> But good to catch, and he could change the world  
> With his hands behind his back, oh
> 
> You can find him sitting on your doorstep  
> Waiting for a surprise  
> And he will feel like he's been there for hours  
> And you can tell that he'll be there for life”
> 
> -Adele, “Daydreamer”
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~
> 
> Finally, after way too long, the final chapter!
> 
> FYI, there are 2 whole works before this one that show how we got to this point. Might want to check those out first.
> 
> Enjoy!

Akira smiles to himself as he slides the second omelette onto its plate. This one cooked a bit more evenly and is perfectly centered on the plate, so he already knows this one is for Ryuji. The light is giving him a headache, and his stomach feels like it's been through the wringer, but waking up still draped over Ryuji has him walking around feeling lighter than air. He doesn't remember which of them was responsible for them falling asleep like that, and he makes a mental note to find out from Ryuji later, but the fact that they did is both terrifying and extremely exciting. As much as he would love to linger in the sweet indecision they've fallen into, he knows that his eventual confession may have to come even sooner than he had thought.

He glances over at Sojiro, who is busy setting down mugs of coffee in front of a couple, and takes a moment to appreciate how lucky he is. Leblanc has come to feel more like home than his house back in Inaba ever did, and the people he's befriended here in Tokyo will always be his true family.

He's jolted out of his thoughts by a loud thud upstairs. And was that a scream? He removes his green apron as quickly as he can and hangs it on the wall before dashing up the stairs.

He's not at all prepared for what he finds. Ryuji is lying on the floor clutching his bad leg while Morgana is on the bed laughing, but the look of pain and fear in Ryuji's eyes instantly tells Akira that this is no laughing matter. He silences Morgana with a glare and drops to his knees beside Ryuji, outstretched hands flexing, completely unsure of what to do.

“Ryuji? What happened?”

“It's my damn leg,” Ryuji groans through gritted teeth. “I just stood up and- my knee…” Ryuji whimpers and curses when he tries and fails to stretch his leg straight.

“Hang on, I- I know someone who can help.” Akira pulls out his phone and scrolls through his contacts with urgency, swallowing hard as the line keeps ringing and ringing. Finally, a familiar voice (albeit more groggy than usual) answers.

_“Well hello, my little guinea pig. To what do I owe the pleasure?”_

“Takemi! Please, it's- it's my friend. His leg is hurt and I don't know what to do.”

Akira hears rustling, maybe Takemi sitting up in bed. When she speaks, her voice is more businesslike. _“What happened? Was there an accident?”_

“No, he says he just got out of bed and his knee buckled.” Akira suddenly becomes aware of Ryuji's hand clutching his, squeezing like Akira is his only lifeline. “Please, Takemi. He's in a lot of pain. There has to be something I can do for him.”

After a brief silence, Takemi replies. “It's hard to say what should be done without any context or being able to examine the patient. I could come over, but you should know house calls cost extra,” she finishes with a hint of mischief.

Akira holds the phone away from his face and leans closer to Ryuji. “So, my friend, she's a doctor, and she said she could come over and-”

“No!” Ryuji shouts, wincing from the effort. “No, no doctors. Y'know we can't afford that.” As if he can hear Akira's thoughts, he adds, “Also, I just hate dealin’ with 'em. Never go unless I really, _really_ have to.”

Akira wants to insist that this _is_ an emergency, but with Takemi on the line he decides not to argue. “He says he doesn't think it's that serious yet. But he's curled up on the floor right now, so I don't know about that.”

_“Hmm. Have there been any problems with his knee before now?”_

“Oh! He actually… he… hang on.” “Ryuji, what exactly happened to your leg? She needs to know.”

Ryuji turns his face toward the floor, but he's not fast enough to hide the sadness that falls over his features. “Torn ACL, last year. They said the reconstruction surgery went fine, and it's never acted up this bad before.”

“He tore his ACL last year and had a successful reconstruction surgery.”

 _“Don't tell me; he was walking again as soon as he could like nothing had happened?”_

“That does sound like him.”

_“Do you know if he attends physical therapy?”_

“No, he doesn't. He works out a lot though.”

Takemi lets out a sigh the likes of which is usually reserved for the most frustrating results of the tests they do together. _“Okay, it's most likely a sprain. Immobilize the knee, keep the leg elevated and ice the area. It will take about two weeks to heal, and it can't be rushed. Make sure your friend understands that.”_

Dozens of thoughts flood Akira's mind all at once. Two weeks is a long time. Can they complete Shido's palace without Ryuji's help? Even if they do, it would be so unfair. Ryuji was there from the very beginning, he deserves to be there when they finally put an end to the mental shutdowns for good. And… the thought of having to fight without Ryuji fills him with fear. He's never fought without Ryuji there. Akira's never really thought about it before but while they're in the metaverse he definitely glances at Ryuji for… support? Reassurance? More like… courage. Even if he was just hanging back waiting to switch in, Ryuji's determined grin gives Akira the courage to believe that they'd make it out alive, since that very first day. Ryuji looked at him like there was never any doubt. Like anyone that got in their way was fucked. What would he do without that?

He realizes Takemi is calling his name. “Y-yeah, thank you so much. I'll get started right away.”

_“Keep me posted on how he's doing. If there's no improvement in a couple days, bring him by the clinic whether he likes it or not.”_

He thanks Takemi again and hangs up the phone, sliding it into his pocket and turning his full attention to Ryuji. He seems to be doing better, focusing on his breathing with his eyes shut and his free hand flat against the floor. Akira gently grips his shoulder to get his attention. Ryuji's eyes are glazed when he opens them, tears pooling on the bridge of his nose, and he's analyzing the grain of the wooden floor so thoroughly Akira considers joking about him becoming a floor salesman. He opts instead for calling Ryuji's name, pouring all the affection he can into every syllable.

It works. Ryuji meets Akira's eyes as he starts tearing up again. When he bites his lip to cut off a sob, Akira feels his own throat burning with sadness. But he can't cry. Crying won't help. There has to be something he can do that will actually be helpful. He can't stand feeling so… useless. He releases Ryuji's hand to place an arm under his head as he sinks to the floor beside him. All he can do is watch as tears roll off the blond's nose and hit the floor. Akira rubs his thumb in circles on Ryuji's shoulder, trying to think of how to move Ryuji so he can start taking care of that knee. If he's in this much pain just lying still, how on Earth are they going to get him to the bed, let alone to his apartment across the city? How on Earth…

“Ryuji, listen to me. I know it hurts right now, but I need you to focus, okay? I think there's something we can do to help the pain, but I need you to trust me. Can you please just humor me for a minute?”

Ryuji sniffles and nods slowly.

“Okay. I need you to think about a time before your leg got injured. Try to remember what it felt like running back then.”

Ryuji's face twists as if he's offended. 

“Please, just trust me. I think this could help.”

Ryuji closes his eyes and seems to be giving him a chance, so Akira continues trying to zero in on a memory. “Think about… training outside. The sun's warming your skin. Think about your breathing, in and out. In and out. Think about your legs. The muscles are tingling, but it feels good. You know you're getting stronger. Now think about your knees, bending and straightening. Smooth. Effortless. The ground comes up to meet your feet, and you just keep moving forward.” Akira pulls his phone out of his pocket, opens the MetaNav, and after a silent prayer that his plan works even the slightest bit, whispers, “Mementos.”

Immediately, his vision begins to blur. The image of Ryuji laying on his arm almost peacefully begins to ripple and tint red. Akira closes his eyes as he usually does to make the transition easier, and when he opens them, he receives no indication whether his plan worked or not. Ryuji's eyes fly open and he doesn't even bother looking around at Mementos. Instead, he looks incredulously at his own leg. They both scramble up to a sitting position and watch as Ryuji straightens his leg. He blinks hard and stands up with Akira's help, tentatively taking a couple steps. Everything seems to be fine. In fact, his posture looks better than Akira remembers ever seeing it before.

“Holy shit.” Ryuji does a slow lunge and straightens up, testing the knee. Ryuji laughs to himself in disbelief. “Akira. How did you know this would work?”

“I didn't. I just thought, since cognition's so important here, that if I brought us in right when you were thinking about your knee being healthy, it might be healthy here.”

Ryuji's eyes go distant, the way they always do when he's hatching a plan. “Dude. What if I do this every time from now on? I mean, this-” he runs a hand through his blond spikes, “this is a huge game changer. This could save us. I dunno. But I'm definitely gonna try it next time we go into Shido's palace.”

All Akira can do is smile and nod. He crosses his arms and leans against a wall while Ryuji runs a victory lap around the train station, laughing and whooping with joy. By now, he's pretty confident about stealing treasures, but this time he feels so certain it would go as planned that he's already looking forward to spending his post-palace down time with his best friend.

* * *

 When they rematerialize in the attic, Akira doesn't shut his eyes to ease the transition, which his stomach does not like at all. His head is pounding and his stomach is burning, but he needs to see what's going on with Ryuji the absolute second they get back, in case his leg is sprained again. As the red warping in his vision subsides, he instinctively faces Ryuji and takes a hold of his forearms, unsure if he's trying to steady the blond or himself. The attic lighting never looked so bright. He squints and has to resist the urge to groan at his stomach turning, but he keeps his eyes on Ryuji's face the entire time. Ryuji's eyes are closed and his breathing is still quickened from running around the station, but his features stay peaceful with no trace of pain. Even when Akira can tell they're completely back in the real world, Ryuji is standing solid. Much more than he can say for himself.

He's swaying where he stands, digging his fingertips into Ryuji's arms. His vision is still blurry and warping. It's just so bright. They're back and Ryuji seems okay, which is the most important thing. He finally lets himself shut his eyes, but that only makes the nausea worse.

“R-Ryuji? You're still okay, right?”

“Yeah, man, I'm good, but…” Ryuji's hands press more firmly under his elbows, “you don't seem to be doin’ too hot.”

Akira tries to reassure him, but all that leaves his lips is a gross noise halfway between a groan and a gag. He swallows and takes a deep breath. “I'm… I've definitely been better. I was feeling fine when I woke up, I don't know what happened.”

He keeps his eyes closed as Ryuji leads him a couple steps, and when he feels the familiar shape of his bed at his legs, he settles on to it slowly, Ryuji's hands never leaving him.

“Today was s'posd to be me taking care of you, remember? Now that my stupid leg isn't stealing the show anymore, we're gettin’ back to you. You have to eat something. I gotta go see what's down in the kitchen-”

“I made omelettes before we… but I don't think…” The thought of cold omelettes drags another half-gag out of him.

“Yeah, fair, that's okay. Tell you what, you got sunglasses you can wear?”

“No, I don't think so.”

“We can pick up a pair on the way then. I know exactly what you need. Don't open your eyes, you can even lie down for a minute. Just tell me where your warm clothes are.”

Akira lays down carefully and directs Ryuji around his room, missing the comfort of his touch as soon as it leaves. God, how did he end up like this? It was barely a week ago that they were just two normal best friends. Right? For the first time since this whole thing started, Akira has a thought that makes his blood run cold. What if this really is just a normal friendship? Sure, he had friends back home, but he's never had a _best_ friend. Or a girlfriend, or (he blushes) a boyfriend. What if he's just a sad, lonely kid who can't tell the difference between friendship and… something else? What if he wants there to be something between them so badly that he's been getting carried away with the idea of something that just isn't there?

Weight settles on the bed next to him. He opens his eyes to look at Ryuji and is startled when a warm hand immediately covers his eyes.

“I told ya, don't open your eyes! You're gonna have to in a bit, so rest ‘em while you can. Here, sit up though.” Ryuji's hand leaves his closed eyes and takes his hand, helping him sit up. ”Alright, arms up.”

“Arms up?”

Ryuji's exasperated sigh makes Akira smile. “Yes, please don't make me say it again.”

Akira's heartbeat starts to race as he obeys. He knows it's just his hungover brain, but keeping his eyes closed makes it feels like time has slowed down to a crawl. He raises his arms over his head, keeping his eyes closed. Ryuji's hands grip the hem of his shirt and lift it up and off of him. Feeling self-conscious, he lowers his arms slowly and grips his thighs right above his knees, suddenly unsure of what he should be doing. He hears the shuffling of fabric, but it stops abruptly leaving only the faint sounds of the café downstairs and the city outside. He waits a few seconds before trying to look around, squinting against the light of a cloudy day streaming in from the windows.

Ryuji smiles and shakes his head, gently placing a hand over his eyes again, but this time his other hand follows, settling at the crook of his neck. “You're real bad at following directions, y'know that?” Ryuji chides playfully.

His breathing turns shallow. There's no way Ryuji can't feel his pulse rattling his neck like a caged bird. But now that he's hyperaware of where Ryuji's hand lays, he notices Ryuji's hands are shaking. Only the slightest bit, but his fingers are definitely twitchier than they should be. But… why? He's just taking care of his dumb, hungover best friend, isn't he? Unless… no. All of it, from being so ready to come take care of him to cuddling last night, was most likely just because he asked him, and Ryuji is such a sweet, caring, selfless guy that he agreed to suffer through it.

Akira can't remember another time in his life he's been so embarrassed. If his stomach was doing somersaults before, now it's just gone off the tallest drop of the highest rollercoaster he's ever seen. The seconds keep dragging on, painfully. His head is spinning, his heart is about to explode, it's all too much. Without even realizing it, he starts chewing his lip, a nervous habit from his childhood that he still occasionally has to stop himself from doing.

Then, something so beautiful happens that it washes every thought right out of his mind. Ryuji laughs, quiet and low and so _close_ to his face that his breath sends a shockwave of tickles from his chin to his belly button. Too light-headed to stop himself, Akira's mouth falls open slightly as he shivers, causing the beautiful sound to happen again. Ryuji shifts the hand covering Akira's eyes to the side of his face, giving him full access to Akira's wavy black hair.

 _He's probably just laughing at how much I look like a fish out of water,_ Akira thinks. He can feel how close Ryuji's face is to his, but he won't open his eyes. Nope. Not gonna make this any more embarrassing for himself. _Especially_ not when Ryuji caresses his temple with his thumb, or runs his fingers through the hair at the back of his neck just… like… that. Akira lets out a pitiful little sigh as he reminds himself that no matter how desperately he wants it to mean something, _anything_ , it's still just his imagination. He keeps his eyes shut tight, silently begging his cheeks to stop blushing. But of course, that only makes it worse.

Suddenly, Ryuji pulls his hands away and clears his throat. “Here, put out your hands.”

Akira holds out his hands and Ryuji tucks them into sleeves one by one then lets go, leaving Akira to pull the shirt on himself. As he straightens it out, eyes still closed, he has to think for a while to figure out what shirt he's wearing, but the three-quarter sleeve gives it away. It's his Yasogami High raglan. He bought it for a fundraiser, and he's never actually worn it before. _It'll sure have some bittersweet associations now._

He feels Ryuji's weight shifting on the bed before something warm is draped over his shoulders. It's _so soft_ , it even _smells_ comfortable, and- sporty?

“Ryuji… is this-?”

“Yeah. Works out that I forgot it here last time. As a thank you for keeping it safe, you get to wear it today. I just figured I'd warm it up first, y'know, so it kinda had that fresh-outta-the-dryer feeling.”

Akira puts his arms through the sleeves and grins, finally opening his eyes. The look on Ryuji's face makes him feel even warmer than the purple hoodie.

“Thank you, Ryuji. Seriously. For all of this.”

Ryuji smiles at the floor and rubs the back of his neck. “Of course, man. I'm happy you called me. Besides, what are best friends for if not-”

“ _Why_ -” a very catlike voice cuts Ryuji off, “are you wearing that idiot's filthy clothes, Akira?”

They both snap their attention to the window, where Morgana leaps down onto the bed and sits, making the most indignant expression a cat's face can manage.

“Mona, please. Ryuji has been helping me out while I'm sick. Do you really need to be so unappreciative?”

“ _I'm_ not sick, what do I have to thank him for? Getting his stench all over my sheets?”

“I do _not_ have a stench! At least _I_ don't smell like a cat. Know why? Cause _I'm_ not a cat!”

“I’ve told you a million times, do not call me a cat!”

_“Can you two please stop yelling?!”_

Morgana's ears droop a little when he finally notices how terrible Akira looks. “Fine.”

Ryuji snatches his jacket off the couch. “Ready to go, Akira?”

Morgana turns to face Akira, completely shutting Ryuji out. “Where are you going? Can I go with you?”

Ryuji takes a breath to tell the cat just where he can go, but before he says anything, he has the presence of mind to look at Akira, who responds first.

“It looks like it might rain, and I know how much you would hate that. We'll bring something back for you though. Okay?”

Morgana tilts his head in consideration, an eerily humanlike gesture. “Well, if you insist. I could use a nap anyway.”

Akira smiles, watching the cat settle down at the foot of the bed, before he stands up carefully to follow Ryuji, who is already waiting on the staircase. Akira pretends not to see Ryuji stick his tongue out at Morgana before heading downstairs. He really needs to do something about those two. It's pretty bad leadership to have let them antagonize each other for this long. He doesn't really know why they hate each other so much in the first place. Things were better for a while after Mona decided to come back to the team and Haru joined them, but the truce didn't last nearly as long as he was hoping it would. _Next time_ , he promises himself. He's in no shape to tackle the issue today, but he'll definitely put a stop to their little rivalry as soon as possible.

* * *

It takes all Akira's willpower not to put his head down on the table while they wait for their food. Thankfully, their favorite ramen shop in Ogikubo is less busy than usual for a Saturday. He pushes the flimsy plastic sunglasses higher on his nose. It's just his luck that the first sunglasses they find are red and black with white flames printed on the sides. Now that everyone hates them, mass-produced overstocked Phantom Thieves merch has ended up in clearance bins everywhere. Most people aren't even willing to touch it.

He doesn't quite hear what Ryuji orders for them. The sounds of the restaurant fade in and out, blurring together. Ryuji gently flicks him on the hand.

“Did’ja hear me?”

Akira blinks and looks at Ryuji.

“I said, you're gonna feel so much better after you eat. Most of these ingredients are supposed to be hangover cures, so I figure somethin's gotta work at least a little bit.”

Akira smiles weakly. “I never knew you were so knowledgeable about nutrition, Ryuji. It's pretty impressive.”

“I dunno, I just picked up some stuff from being on the track team. Fat, sodium, it's all used for different stuff in the body. Once you know what the problem is, you just gotta know what ingredients have the stuff that helps. The wrestlers prob’ly know much more than me.”

“... I really wish you'd just take the compliment sometimes.”

Ryuji shifts uncomfortably, looking away. “It's just… I'm sorry.”

“No, I don't want you to be sorry. It makes me so sad that you're the only person who can't see how amazing you are.”

Ryuji's face goes red. Aside from a little laugh, he's silent for a long while. Finally, he settles on, “Thanks, man. I'm nothin’ compared to you though.”

Akira tilts his head down so he can look Ryuji in the eye over the sunglasses, despite how much the light immediately makes his head hurt again. “I can't even begin to tell you how much that isn't true.”

Before Ryuji can respond, a waiter places a beef bowl in front of him and oyakodon with a side of salmon nigiri in front of Akira.

“Mm, this does look great. Is this for Mona?” he asks, pointing with his chopsticks to the nigiri.

Ryuji scoffs. “No, those aren't for that fuzzball. Those are for you. The salmon is a little fatty, which should help ease your stomach, and the rice is easy to digest. The eggs, chicken, and hot broth should all do good things for you too. Oh, almost forgot-” Ryuji goes over to the drink case and returns with a red sports drink. “This too. Hope you're hungry.”

Akira chuckles and starts eating. The udon is everything he hoped it would be, and he's already feeling more alive after the first bite. It's been a long time since he's had salmon nigiri, but it's a simple pleasure he might want to enjoy more often. He toughs through the sports drink, which isn't the best accompaniment to the meal flavor-wise, but he trusts Ryuji's advice and definitely wants to feel better as soon as possible. In a matter of minutes, their empty dishes are whisked away and Akira lets out a deep, satisfied breath.

“So,” Ryuji begins, leaning back in his seat, “feelin’ any better?”

“Absolutely. Even better than I expected to, honestly. Thanks again for-”

“Yeah, no problem, man,” Ryuji interrupts, not unkindly. His eyes quickly scan the room as he takes another sip of soda.

 _He probably doesn't want to have this conversation in public, which definitely makes asking him about last night out of the question._ Akira pushes up his sunglasses and stands. “I should order some sushi for Mona.”

Ryuji simply grunts in response.

As he stands at the counter waiting for the sushi, Akira watches Ryuji sitting by himself at the table. He's slumped comfortably in his seat, legs crossed ankle-over-knee. Unlike the few other patrons all on their phones, Ryuji is staring out the shop's big front window. Whatever he's thinking about has him smiling to himself. He looks at Akira and flashes a bright smile when they immediately make eye contact. Akira smiles back and looks away. He could have sworn Ryuji was blushing, but he's wearing sunglasses indoors so it was definitely just a trick of the light.

They head home, the sound of the train almost lulling Akira to sleep. He ends up resting his head on Ryuji's shoulder, and Ryuji wouldn't move him for anything in the world. After they wrap up Shido's palace, they'll have no excuse not to finally talk about the sudden change in their friendship. But for now, they can take their time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No confession???
> 
> Fear not, friends, that will be in the final work of this series, coming soon!
> 
> Thank you so so SO much for reading! I'm having so much fun writing this and all the kudos and lovely comments are so wonderful.
> 
> Until next time ( 0 , - )/


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